Reflections
by Loveandcoffeeandsimplicities
Summary: What do you do when the reflection staring back at you is not one you like? Bughead oneshot. I do not own the comics or show.


**Author's note: **You guys know that I lost someone to suicide. Well, I've lost two people to suicide in my life and both times I felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of me. I miss them. Every day. No matter how much time passes, I'm left wondering what I could have done differently. I know that, deep down, there was nothing I could have done. It's not my fault. It's not theirs'. It's no one's. So, with that being said, I'm looking into finding another therapist to finally talk about the guilt I've felt all these years for the first friend, and then the guilt I feel for the second. This oneshot, while sad at first, is going to highlight Bughead's love for one another. I just need to channel my emotions into something and would love feedback of any kind. TW: Suicide attempt. If you need to talk, as always, feel free to message me. I am here. Let's be kind to ourselves and one another. We're all fighting this thing called life. Love. (Also, no clue what is going on the show – I'm watching it on Netflix when it arrives, so this is completely AU).

Betty walked the empty streets towards her home. She couldn't believe that her mom had chosen Charles over her. The last time that happened, she had chosen Chic, and looked how well that turned out. Betty was tired. Simply exhausted to her core. Every other day it was fucking something. Archie and Veronica needing her; the pressures her high school was putting on her; even the memory of her dad. The night Penelope shot him was the night her life ended. Yes, she hadn't forgiven him for his sins, nor would she ever, but she didn't want him to be murdered. In front of her at that. Jughead had been great at helping her stay afloat, until he wasn't.

Jughead had been her saving grace from the very start. When she found out that her parents had sent Polly to the Sisters, it was Jughead who had caught a bus with her to the home for troubled youth and began investigating. It was Jughead who stuck by her the year of the Black Hood and then the year the Farm was wreaking it's havoc. Now, he was in his preparatory school and she was at Riverdale and they couldn't make heads or tails of anything.

A soft sigh escaped her as she let herself inside her home. A quick glance around told her no one was there – not that she expected them to be. Alice was most likely with Charles and Jughead was somewhere at his new school. That left Betty alone. She made her way up to her room and shut herself in, locking the door. She wasn't in the mood to see anyone. Not tonight. She wasn't even in the mood to do homework, so simply laid down on her bed, thinking about things.

How easy was it for things to take such drastic turns in less than a year? Archie's dad died; her dad died. She thought that maybe they could bond over it but knew it would be selfish of her to say she understood her friend's pain. Her dad was a murderer; Archie's was not. She kept her mouth shut on the matter. Then, there was Veronica. She felt like the two best friends were drifting apart. She was busy with Archie, which normally wouldn't be a problem, if Betty could find time to be with Jughead. But, with their different school schedules, it was just too hard.

"And, you're depressed," a voice in the back of her mind piped up. She put a pillow over her face, trying to block it out. She had been doing her damnedest to block out that infuriating voice for the past few months now, but with each passing day, it got louder and louder. She didn't want to acknowledge her depression, didn't want to acknowledge anything. How could she? She was fucking Betty Cooper, All-American girl who was as perfect as they came. She snorted. Perfect. What a fucking joke.

What she really wanted, more than anything, was a chance to make all the white noise to stop, if only for a moment. It was normally gone when she was around Jughead and her friends, but they had been on such opposite schedules, it had returned in full force, leaving her fucking breathless. She, if she was being honest with herself, wanted to end all of the pain. Right now. This very moment.

"Then why don't you?" The sly voice asked, and Betty sat up on her bed calmly. Why didn't she? No one was busy taking their time to come see her. No, she had been the one to try and make sure to check in with everyone until she couldn't anymore. If they didn't give a damn about her, why should she give one about them? Besides, it's not like Jughead would even notice. Biting her lip, she got off her bed and made her way into her bathroom, studying her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired. Terribly so. The bags underneath her eyes was an indication of just how little sleep she had gotten lately. Not looking at her reflection for much longer, her eyes fell on her bathroom cabinet and she opened the door. Rummaging around, she found what she was looking for a moment later.

Weighing the bottle of sleeping pills in her hand, she thought about her options. A few of these and she could just leave it all behind, everything. Don't take these, and she was still facing the same fucking struggles of each day without any help. The choice was easy. Pouring out some, Betty quickly swallowed them down with some water, and then went and laid on her bed.

XXX

Betty wasn't sure how long she floated out of consciousness for, but it was pressure against her hand that started to tug her back.

"Betty, Betts. Can you hear me?" Jughead asked. How she knew it was Jughead was easy: she'd recognize his voice anywhere. Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked around. Of course. She would be in a fucking hospital. She glared at Jughead as the memories came back to her of what she did.

"Who found me?" Betty snapped.

The look on his face told her he was taken aback by her tone, but she didn't care; she was simply too incensed.

"Your mother," he said softly, trailing a thumb along her knuckles.

"Fuck her," she hissed, angry.

"Are you telling me it wasn't an accidental overdose?" Jughead demanded quietly, and she snorted.

"Jughead, have I ever taken sleeping pills before?" Betty asked sharply, and he inhaled shakily.

"Why?" Jughead asked, sounding a bit breathless.

"Why not?" Betty shrugged, turning her face away from him. He tilted it back, a fire burning in his eyes, and she matched it.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Elizabeth Cooper?" Jughead growled. "Trying to kill yourself?"

"Why the fuck do you care, Jughead?" Betty snapped.

"Never, ever ask me that again," he exclaimed. "Do you hear me? I will always care about you."

"Really? It hasn't seemed like it lately," she said.

He opened and shut his mouth several times, seemingly at loss for words, before nodding his head.

"I know," he whispered. "And, I'm sorry baby."

She shrugged but didn't say anything.

"I know I haven't been around, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back, but you can't do this shit again, do you understand? You can't try to end it. Especially without telling me what you're thinking. I could have stopped you," he murmured.

"I didn't want to be stopped," she sighed.

"Too bad," he said simply.

"Get out," she said quietly.

"No."

"Jughead, get out!" Betty screamed, feeling all the pent-up isolation and loneliness she had been feeling rushing through her like a tidal wave. He wrapped his arms around her, and she tried to push him off; he held on with a tenacious grip.

"No, baby. I'm not leaving you. We are going to get through this and get back to who we once were. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. Nothing or no one is going to change that. Today proved that. You have no idea what I felt like to get a call from Alice Cooper, saying that you had tried to commit suicide. I was so fucking scared, Betty! So fucking scared! I swear to God, had you died, they may as well have dug another grave cause I would have followed, too. I can't fathom a world where you don't exist, let alone live in one," he said, holding her to his chest. Betty curled her fingers into his shirt, gasping for air as the reality of what she had done came tumbling down onto her.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I just didn't want to feel anymore. I didn't want to feel pain every day of my fucking life."

"And, think about what the rest of us were going to feel had you succeeded, baby. It would have been unimaginable," he murmured, rocking her a little. She hiccupped into his chest as she tried to get her breathing regulated. For his part, Jughead just murmured soothing words into her ear, hushing her gently. When she had spent all of her energy crying, he helped ease her back onto the bed before pushing her hair off her forehead.

"You're going to a treatment facility. Not Sisters – you'll never have to go to Sisters again. This one is upstate, and they have the best treatment services in the state for suicide survivors. We're going to get you well, I'm going to be with you every step of the way, and you will never feel like you're so alone that you have no way out but to end it again, okay?" Jughead asked firmly, eyes tracing hers'. She looked at him for a long moment, mulling over her options, before nodding.

"Alright," she whispered. "Will…will you visit me?"

He traced her cheekbone.

"Every damn day. I don't care if they say I can't; I'll sneak into your room," he promised, and she chuckled, feeling a little of the ache in her heart lessen. Her eyelids grew heavy and he was kissing her forehead.

"Get some sleep, love," he murmured.

She closed her eyes but not before saying one more thing.

"Jughead?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you."

His laughter as he dusted another kiss to her forehead was enough to tell her they were going to be just fine. They always were.


End file.
